


Familial Affection

by AmberSpirit



Category: Metropolis (2001)
Genre: Bad Parenting, Daddy Issues, Daddy Kink, M/M, Orgasm Denial, Yandere
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-14
Updated: 2014-03-14
Packaged: 2018-01-15 15:32:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1309936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmberSpirit/pseuds/AmberSpirit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Occasionally Red wondered whether he hadn’t gone a step too far by allowing Rock to be trained in militarized violence; the boy seemed to have absolutely no concept of morality or understanding of the value of a human life. The casual sadism he showed during some of the missions gave Red the impression that he unknowingly managed to raise a sociopath. He never felt particularly guilty about it. </p><p>Rock may have been a beast but he was an extremely loyal one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Familial Affection

**Author's Note:**

> This fandom is basically dead but that doesn't stop me from writing morally questionable shit.

A knock on the door. Red gripped the glass of scotch in his hand with a soft grunt of annoyance.

  
He had been sitting alone in his office for a few hours already; the rest of the staff on the floor had long since left and his two bodyguards were stationed by the reception downstairs. The news of Dr.Laughton’s death and the destruction of the laboratory hit him hard; it felt like losing Tima all over again. Red had no desire to talk to anyone in his current mood, least of all Rock who was the only candidate for such a late meeting. Red’s bodyguards would not have let anybody else pass through and Rock was known to drop in at times when he knew his guardian was by himself.  
When the knock repeated, Red massaged his forehead as his headache threatened to worsen at the muffled sound.

  
“Come in.”

  
Rock’s posture was as perfect as always from the moment he entered, the very picture of an ideal soldier.  
The boy was dressed in his customary Marduke uniform, his eyes a clear blue without the usual glare of his sunglasses. They rarely left the teen’s face except when in the company of his guardian. Red could appreciate the respect it showed.

  
To this day Red sometimes wondered whether it was good idea to adopt the boy and keep him by his side throughout all these years. He had been given very little choice at the time; many people had blamed Red for the quick escalation of the war because of his weapon trade business and he needed a short-term solution for the bad press. Rock had simply been at the right place at the right time; the sweet-faced child with a gun in his hand, forced to fight for food and drinkable water.

  
However what started off as a way to improve his public image had quickly turned into a PR problem itself. While the war was over, it eventually became clear that the young boy Red adopted brought something back from it; an unpredictable thirst for violence that clashed with all the authority figures in his life. Rock had rebelled against everyone who wasn’t his guardian and Red had no time nor desire to coddle him, being busy with his own political agenda. There were only so many private teachers that he could bribe to keep silent about what happened during the lessons with Rock. Most of them grew to fear their unpredictable student and Red was eventually forced to give up on providing any education for the violent boy. This happened during the later stages of his formation of the Marduke Party and any public scandal would have destroyed his chance at a political career.

  
Thankfully the matter eventually resolved itself when Red integrated the boy into his anti-robot group. When given a purpose and an outlet for his violence, Rock grew into a fine soldier that was eager to prove himself to Red and obey any of his orders, no matter how unconventional. Occasionally Red wondered whether he hadn’t gone a step too far by allowing Rock to be trained in militarized violence; the boy seemed to have absolutely no concept of morality or understanding of the value of a human life. The casual sadism he showed during some of the missions gave Red the impression that he unknowingly managed to raise a sociopath. He never felt particularly guilty about it.

  
Rock may have been a beast but he was an extremely loyal one; Red had the boy completely under his control and could trust him to take his secrets to his grave. Rock’s fanatical loyalty to him almost bordered on religious, present in his gaze every time he called him father or watched from the sidelines during one of Red’s speeches.  
It was there in the boy’s eyes now as Rock slowly approached his guardian’s desk. Red found the fervent devotion sickening.

  
“Not now, Rock” he said, the coldness in his voice ruined by the slur of the words. The alcohol was threatening to drag him down the thick mud of depression and Red could not afford to mourn the loss of his daughter for long. He will simply have to move past this tragedy the same way he did last time. The Ziggurat had to fulfil its purpose without his beloved Tima.  
When he looked up he was surprised that the boy was still in the room despite the clear dismissal.

  
“I can’t help but notice that you are distressed, father” Rock stated, hesitating at the end of the sentence. The teen’s mistake was painfully obviously in the silence of the room but Red couldn’t be bothered to do anything about it. He knew that the boy still considered him to be a father figure of sorts, no matter how much abuse Red dished out. It would be sad if it wasn’t so pathetic.

  
“Is this about Dr.Laughton? He was just a filthy criminal- you should not concern yourself with the likes of him.”

  
Red narrowed his eyes at the mention of that man’s name. Laughton, that fool...! How could he have let this happen so close to Tima’s completion?  
Red angrily finished his drink, brushing back his hair into its usual immaculate style.

  
“It’s not any of your business” he retorted with a glare, annoyed at Rock’s typical persistence. “I assume you didn’t come here to watch me drink so what do you want, Rock?”

  
The boy stood still for a moment and then took out a large envelope, placing at the top of the desk.

  
“These are the records of the robot disturbance during the last three days of the celebrations.”

  
Red hummed in understanding, taking out the papers and skimming through the contents.

  
“Wasn’t Clayton supposed to bring me these?” he asked with lazy suspicion. He didn’t mention the fact that he was also supposed to receive this particular report tomorrow morning.

  
“He was busy” Rock replied curtly. Red glared at the obvious lie; it was evident that this was one of the boy’s numerous attempts to create some sort of an intimate, father-son moment between them. After the still fresh loss of his beloved Tima, such endeavour was especially unwelcome.

  
“I see” he sneered, narrowing his eyes at the text before him. Everything seemed to be more or less normal, if one counted the upper level robots’ reaction to the Ziggurat test run... But one specific piece of information made Red glance back at his charge.

  
“Do you realize you are mentioned in this report?”

  
Rock straightened up even further, every bit the perfect soldier.

  
“I was not aware.”

  
“It says here that you attacked a fellow Marduke” Red raised one eyebrow questioningly “Is this true?”

  
Rock’s expression seemed to collapse for a second in a strange sort of half-twitch but then the adoring gaze returned, mixed with something akin to frustration.

  
“We had a disagreement.”

  
“A disagreement” Red echoed, tapping his fingers on his desk. He wasn’t stupid; the report had clearly softened the actual circumstances of the dispute. Red would have to be blind not to notice his charge’s sadistic tendencies and while Rock behaved like calm guard dog around him, out there he turned into a wolf. Red didn’t really care as long as the boy’s enthusiasm for amputation and decapitation included strictly robotic victims, but the moment human beings got involved things turned serious.

  
This wouldn’t have happened if the boy hadn’t been an idiot and got himself seen by the rest of the Mardukes.

  
“Everything is resolved now, father.”

  
Red sighed in disgust at that dreaded title, once again reminded of Tima. He reached for the bottle to pour himself another drink.

  
“We will talk about this later” he stated, having enough of the boy for tonight “You’re dismissed.”

  
The alcohol felt good flowing down his throat, leaving that familiar burning sensation behind. Burning...fire...Tima...

  
Rock didn’t move, acting as if he hadn’t heard the dismissal.

  
“Father” he said, using that darkly adoring voice which always gave Red a headache “You know that you can trust me with everything. Please tell me how I can help you...I will do anything-”

  
“I SAID YOU’RE DISMISSED!” his hand banged against the desk, shaking its contents. When Rock continued to stand completely still, Red gritted his teeth in frustration.

  
“Allow me to help-“

  
“You can’t help me, Rock because you are an incompetent idiot who can’t even cover his own tracks!” he shouted, the alcohol and the knowledge that they were completely alone loosening his tongue.

  
“I apologize, father. Next time I will-“

  
“I AM NOT YOUR FATHER!” Red jumped from his seat, approaching the boy with rage in his eyes. The fact that Rock didn’t even flinch at the outburst only served to make him angrier. Always so calm, always acting the role of a perfect little soldier, as if Red wasn’t aware of the ugly things happening behind the curtain. Did he seriously think Red would love him if he hid those parts of himself? The boy completely failed to understand the fact that his guardian didn’t give a damn about him from the start. The adoption was only a farce.

  
“YOU ARE NOTHING TO ME, DO YOU UNDERSTAND? NOTHING!”

  
It was perhaps the fact that Rock simply stood there with a blank face, taking the abuse without a single word that made Red do what he did. He had rarely hit the boy before so the itch to strike Rock came as a surprise, most likely originating from the ugly mix of alcohol and his dark thoughts.

  
To his credit, Rock took the punch as a man, not making a single noise as Red’s fist connected with his face. It was only after three hits that the teen collapsed on the carpeted floor. Red pressed his foot against the boy’s stomach, eyes ablaze with anger.

  
The boy was mumbling something between his heavy breaths and it took the man a moment to decipher the words.

  
“I...want to be...something...to you...”

  
Red looked down at the boy with mixed feelings, his anger already subsiding.

  
“You are my guard, Rock. Not my son.”

  
The boy was dirtying carpet, staring up at him with bloody nose. Red almost kicked him when he saw the return of that uncanny adoring gaze.

  
“I will always guard you, father.”

  
Red sneered at the words, getting steadily uncomfortable despite the fact that he was the one looming over the boy.

  
“Have you not heard a thing I said, you idiot? I’m not-“

  
His words were stopped by a firm touch on his calf. Red froze as he watched with some sort of sick fascination at the boy at his feet pressed his face against his leg, moving in a positively obscene fashion. He was dirtying Red’s trousers with blood but somehow the man couldn’t bring himself to step away. Rock’s breaths sounded strangely incriminating in the complete silence of the room.  
When Red glanced down he saw the evidence of the boy’s arousal distorting the shape of his Marduke uniform trousers. The sight of it sent Red’s already muddled mind spinning.

  
“Please, father, please...”

  
Moving very slowly, Red pried his leg away from the Rock’s grasping hands and moved it downward until it hovered above the boy’s crotch. Then, possessed by a sort of detached curiosity, Red pressed his shoe against the bulge between the boy’s legs.

  
Rock moaned softly, the voice sounding uncharacteristically vulnerable. Red added some pressure, slightly moving his foot up and down as the teen rocked against him and he could make out the outline of the boy’s erection pressing against his shoe.

  
“Father, father, father” Rock chanted fervently, the words sounding like a prayer to some sort of a depraved god.

  
“I love you...” he panted, spreading his legs even further. Red cocked one eyebrow at the heated confession and then pressed even harder until Rock’s cries of pleasure turned into pain. The obscene sounds echoed against the wall of his office, creating a sharp contrast to the elegant setting around them.

  
Red softened the pressured and began to move his foot in the rhythmic motion again. Rock’s painful cries turned hungry and he started to babble as his breathing grew more and more erratic.  
“You’re mine...” Red could make out between the noises of pleasure “mine, only mine...”

  
Red nearly stopped upon hearing the words, finding the statement disturbing but eventually dismissed it as pathetic ramblings. He always knew that Rock was a freak but he would have never guessed that he harboured such feelings towards what he believed to be his only father figure.

  
The sight of the body under his foot was disgusting and yet Red found himself to be captivated by Rock’s expression of need. The boy’s eyelashes were incredibly dark and fine, sharply contrasting against the heated flesh of his cheeks. When he opened his eyes to look up at Red, the lightning of the room caused them to become a familiar colour and the man inhaled sharply as he was once again reminded of his little Tima.

  
Unconsciously Red moved his foot away which caused a noise of protest spilling from the boy’s mouth, but the sound quietened when Rock watched his guardian lower himself on one knee. Red grasped the teen’s face, alcohol muddling all his senses as he brushed the brown locks away from his eyes to get a better look. Rock whined softly at the touch.

  
Red couldn’t remember the last time he touched the boy in such a direct manner. Perhaps when he took him in, all those years ago and they had their picture taken for the newspaper. Rock had never been a particularly affectionate child and Red disliked touching him in any way. But seeing the boy’s reaction now, Red realized that he had been completely starved for touch and most likely hiding it from everyone through all these years. How utterly pathetic.

  
Rock turned his head and burrowed his face in the palm of the man’s hand, nuzzling it roughly. Red grimaced when he felt something hot and wet brush against his skin.

  
“You’re disgusting” the man stated with a sneer and pried himself away from Rock’s wandering hands. “Father-“ he called with a tight voice but Red was already walking away from his charge and wiping his wet hand against the fabric of his trousers.

  
“Stand up” he commanded roughly as he returned back to his seat by the desk. It was hard to compose himself with so much alcohol in his system but Red eventually managed to regain his equilibrium as he watched the teen get back on his feet.

  
Rock was a mess: his uniform wrinkled, his hair ruffled, the blood still dripping from his nose as he stood at attention in front of his guardian. The erection straining against his trousers was even more obvious now and Red pointedly avoided looking at it. Despite the straight posture, the boy was still breathing hard and his expression was raw with unfinished desire.

  
“For God’s sake, clean yourself up- you’re a mess” Red sighed in disgust and then softly reached for the framed picture of his daughter on the desk, finding the feel of it between his fingers pleasantly familiar. How could he ever think, even for a second, that this mess of a boy ever resembled his beloved princess? It was unthinkable.

  
Rock was completely silent now; a stark contrast to the stream of noises he made just a moment ago. Red watched as he wiped at his dirty face, using the sleeve of his uniform to get rid of the blood.  
“We will never mention this again, am I clear?” Red asked with a dark voice. He noticed that Rock’s gaze was fixed on the picture on his guardian’s hand and there was something unsettling about the look. Uncomfortable, Red put the framed photo back in its place.

  
“Am I clear?” he repeated.

  
“Yes, father” Rock replied with a husky voice.

  
“Good. You’re dismissed.”

  
There was a brief moment during which Rock’s expression transformed into something dark and violent and Red was reminded of all those stories he heard about the boy’s unpredictable behaviour when he was let loose in Metropolis. There was something ugly in the look his charge was sending him now; a cold yet cruel gleam in his eyes which hardened his whole face.

  
To Red it seemed as if the boy was deciding on something. He knew one of those decisions was to obey his guardian and leave, the other...

  
Red didn’t know what the other option was.

  
The silence in the room was almost unbearable at this point but the man was determined not to speak first. For a moment it looked as if Rock would choose the second option -some rash unpredictable act with heavy consequences- but then the boy swallowed and dropped his gaze, looking down on the floor.

  
“Yes, sir.”

  
Red let out a breath of relief he didn’t even realize he was holding and then smoothed the fabric of his sleeves with what he hoped was a composed gesture. He didn’t look up until the boy closed the door behind him.

  
Really, he would have to be careful with that one. Rock may have been as obedient as a dog when commanded by his guardian but what Red just witnessed made him think that there was something unpredictable lurking underneath the surface, something he would not be able to control in the future.

  
For some reason it felt as if Red had made a mistake by touching the boy like that.

  
The man sighed bitterly as he mentally added this problem to the list of his growing worries. He really didn’t have the time to deal with that idiot, especially so close to the completion of the Ziggurat project. Hopefully the boy would continue to do as Red commanded and they would never mention this strange evening again.

  
Red reached for the bottle again, pouring himself another drink.


End file.
